


Dance Until the Dawn

by Avery_Kedavra



Series: Soulmate September [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Morality | Patton Sanders is a Good Friend, Morality | Patton Sanders-centric, Name Changes, Queerplatonic Roman Sanders/Patton Sanders, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Trans Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Trans Male Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, aka ro has different pronouns for the first half, during the time when they used those identifiers, gender euphoria, referring to a trans character by their past name and pronouns, self-deprecation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:26:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26252626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avery_Kedavra/pseuds/Avery_Kedavra
Summary: As Patton grew up, three things became clear.A) Ro was still his best friend. B) Patton still wanted more than that. C) Neither of them had found their soulmates.And he wasn't supposed to want anyone other than the name on his wrist, a name of a person he'd never met, a person who wasn't as dear to him as Ro was. He knew the rules. He knew they weren't meant to be together. Ro would find her soulmate, and Patton would find his, and they would live happily ever after, the end.Wouldn't it be nice, though, if things were different?
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Series: Soulmate September [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1907623
Comments: 15
Kudos: 123





	Dance Until the Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! I just finished one fic event, so clearly it’s time to start another! Seriously though, this looked like fun and it might help me transition into working on smaller projects again. So I’m trying some prompts for Soulmate September! Who knows how many I’ll complete, but I’ve got little plans for all of them, so you might get a lot of content this September!
> 
> (Song title from Willow Tree by Rival, Cadmium, and Rosendale.)
> 
> Find me on Tumblr at @averykedavra!

Patton was eight when he got his heart broken, and he barely even realized it’d happened. Afterwards, he’d look back at that afternoon and wince--or, if he was having a really bad day, cry. It was sad, really. The whole day had been great, and it would have been a nice memory, if not for the soulmates.

They’d been lying on the treehouse floor, the two of them, Patton falling off the side of a large squishy beanbag and Ro drumming her feet on the windowsill. They’d spent a good few hours playing teatime with Patton’s stuffed frog and Ro’s committee of plush puppies. Every time things got boring, Ro would say “oh no, here comes the dragon” and teatime would turn into Rescue the Princess time. But eventually Ro had run out of places to hide the princess because the treehouse was only so big.

The treehouse was their favorite place. It had red walls and a corrugated roof that went ping-ping-ping when it rained and a scratchy rope ladder and a small window with a bucket hanging out of it for Secret Important Messages. In other words, it was perfect.

So after one last daring rescue mission, the stuffed animals were piled in a corner under Patton’s drawing of a dinosaur, and Ro pulled out the storybooks she’d gotten at the library. Patton grabbed his own as well. They were only allowed to check out five at a time, but five plus five was ten, and ten was plenty to keep them busy.

Patton liked books with animals on the cover. He didn’t really care about the story as long as there were animals. And Ro liked _adventures_. Today she’d brought a whole stack of books, each of the covers sporting dragons and pirates and damsels in distress and brave knights who got them out of distress. Patton thought they could be a little scary. And violent. But Ro always stopped if Patton got nervous, and anyway, it was hard to be scared on a warm spring afternoon with carpet tickling his toes and a lollipop stuck in his mouth.

“Me first!” Ro opened a book with a princess on the front. “We’ll do you next, promise!”

“Okay!” Patton said. He didn’t mind much. Animals were great, but Ro’s stories got interesting.

Because Ro liked to rewrite the stories afterwards.

That was Patton’s favorite part of the afternoon. They’d done it for almost a year, ever since Patton moved here and was greeted by a huge grin and a long black braid and an impressive amount of sparkly hair clips. Being friends with Ro was simple--Patton didn’t know how he’d ever been friends with anyone else, because nobody was like Ro. Nobody understood Patton like Ro did, always knowing when he was upset. Nobody made Patton smile like Ro did, with her endless stories and boundless excitement. Nobody completed Patton like Ro did. They fit together so neatly, like puzzle pieces clicking into place. They were eight and together and the world was wide, exciting and full of new things to read.

“So,” Ro said in her storyteller voice, flipping her hair over her shoulder. And Patton shuffled over to Ro and peered at the book, careful to keep his sticky fingers away from the pages. He wiggled with anticipation.

It was a good story. It was about a lonely princes who was born with no name on her wrist. No soulmate. Her family despaired and she herself mourned, because she would never have a true love. Then a handsome knight saved her from a vicious dragon--this was the part Ro liked the most, dipping her voice to read the knight’s part, Patton playing the princess because all she did was cry a lot. The princess and the knight fell in love, but she knew they weren’t soulmates, so they couldn’t be together. Then they learned the knight hadn’t been given a name at birth, so it hadn’t shown up on the princess’ wrist, and they were soulmates after all. They kissed--“Ew,” Patton said as he finished up his lollipop, and Ro nodded in agreement--and got married and lived happily ever after, the end.

“The thing is,” Ro said, closing the book slowly with her nose wrinkled in concentration. “The thing is.”

“What’s the thing?” Patton asked. Here it was. The fun part.

“The thing _is_ , I think his name should have shown up anyhow.”

“Really? Why?”

“I think it’s cheating!” Ro declared. “Why’d his name not show up ‘cause he didn’t get one when he was a baby? I don’t remember _anything_ from when I was a baby! It’s stupid!”

“It’s not,” Patton said, more out of a desire to get Ro talking than any kind of real belief. “That’s just how soulmates work. It’s your true name, the name on your birth cert-if-i-cate.”

“Your what?” Ro asked, momentarily distracted.

“It’s a piece of paper,” Patton explained, feeling a little proud to know something Ro didn’t. Ro knew almost everything, and the stuff she didn’t, she was good at making up. “They give it to you when you’re born. It proves you got born.”

“Of course I got born!” Ro said, waving a hand at her chest. She was wearing a faded Cinderella t-shirt and there was a hole in the side from the time they played Hide and Seek next to a wire fence. “I don’t see why anyone’s gotta have some paper. I wouldn’t be _here_ if I weren’t born, right?”

Patton shrugged. “It’s just the rule.”

By now, he understood that some things were Just the Rule. That was code for something he wasn’t supposed to argue with. There was also That’s How It Is, and sometimes You’ll Understand When You’re Older, and once in a while Because I Said So, Patton Mbow.

“Soulmates have rules,” Patton added, “because they gotta! You hafta have them or else the world goes ker-splooey.”

“But soulmates are _magic!_ ” Ro looked deeply offended. She clapped her hands together. “Unity! Two people are magic and they find each other and it’s _magic_. Magic shouldn’t have rules. That’s no fun!”

Patton shrugged and fiddled with his bracelet. It covered his left wrist and was sprinkled with liberal amounts of glitter. People liked to cover the names on their wrists because it was kinda private and you didn’t want people peeking at them sometimes. Patton didn’t mind. He’d have a chance to find his soulmate later. Magic could help him out and he’d meet his soulmate like Mom and Mami and he’d live happily ever after, the end.

Not now, though. Now he had books and a treehouse and Ro, who was glowing the way she always did when an idea caught her attention. Her eyes glittered like stars and her hands flew like they were birds and sometimes she ran out of breath but she’d barrel ahead anyway with barely a pause.

Gosh, Ro was amazing.

“It’s just too _complicated_ ,” Ro was saying when Patton shook himself and focused. “True names are your birth name but also not really? So many rules! It’s like math. Magic shouldn’t be like _math_.”

“I like math,” Patton said. “Sometimes our math teacher gives us cookies.”

“I like math too,” Ro said. Which wasn’t true, but Patton appreciated it anyway. “But magic and math aren’t the same!”

“They have some of the same letters!”

“Well, they’re _kind_ of the same, then.” Ro waved a hand. “But magic shouldn’t be like math, it should be like...like...”

Patton waited as Ro fought for a word. She’d find it. She always did.

“Like singing!” Ro exclaimed. “Everyone knows how to sing ‘cause it’s simple! No rules!”

“I’m not sure,” said Patton, who’d gotten several comments when he sang a song from Sesame Street during the school concert about butterflies. “I think singing has rules, too.”

“No it doesn’t! You just sing the notes at the right times!” As an example, Ro sang the first few words of Hakuna Matata, but she’d forgotten the rest of them, so she trailed off with a “something something problem-free.” Patton clapped anyway. Ro was a good singer.

“Like that,” Ro said triumphantly. “If you have the words and the tune and the beat, it’s all set!”

Patton giggled. “Those kinda sound like rules.”

“They do?” Ro scrunched up her nose. “Oh, come on! Why does everything _fun_ have to have all these _rules_ attached? If _I_ was in charge, I’d stop with the name thing altogether!” She nodded triumphantly. “Who cares about names anyway? They’re just words! I’d rather get something interesting, like...favorite foods! Or pets! Or--Disney movies! Names are so short and boring.”

“People have the same pets,” Patton pointed out.

“People have the same names, too! Like there are two Emmas in the grade up!” Ro shrugged. “I think it should be more interesting than names, is all I’m saying.”

“I think,” Patton said slowly, to make sure Ro wasn’t going to keep talking. Ro had gone silent and watched Patton with interest, chin in her hands.

“I think,” Patton said again, “that people should use whole names instead. They’d be easier to find if there were whole names.”

“There’s no room,” Ro said.

“You could write it real small!”

Ro looked at her wrist, the one not covered with a strip of ribbon. “Good point!”

Patton beamed.

“I still think names are boring, though.” She stuck out her tongue. “It’s not even nicknames! I’d rather it be nicknames.”

“You don’t like your name?” Patton asked.

Ro scrunched up her nose again.

Ro’s full name was Aarohi. Her last name was even longer. Patton called her Ro when they’d first met and he didn’t really know how to say Aarohi--he had trouble with words sometimes and it helped to keep them short. He was better now, but Ro had stuck so Ro was what Ro remained.

“Your soulmate can call you whatever,” Patton reassured Ro. “Darling or stuff like that. That’s what my moms say.”

“I want my soulmate to call me Ro,” Ro said decisively. “Just Ro. I like Ro.”

Patton scrunched up his eyebrows. “ _I_ call you Ro.”

“Yeah, and I like it.”

Patton couldn’t really explain the weird feeling in his stomach. He felt vaguely that a designation like _that_ for a nickname--that it was for soulmates--meant Patton was no longer meant to use it. “I can call you something else,” he suggested. “If you wanna.”

“What?” Ro frowned. “I just said I liked it!”

Patton sunk into himself a bit. This wasn’t an argument, but it was getting kinda emotional, and he hadn’t expected this. He didn’t know what to say next. Soulmates always made him feel a little icky and strange, like he’d missed a step going downstairs and his stomach had swooped a bit. Today it felt even worse. He tried looking at Ro, found Ro was even harder to look at, and decided to look at the floor instead.

There was a long silence. Well, long for Patton and Ro, which meant maybe three seconds.

“Pat?” Ro asked.

Ro rarely called Patton nicknames, unlike everyone else they knew. Ro wasn’t always great with names so nicknames helped him remember. But he said he never needed to with Patton because Patton was unforgettable. Now, the use of that nickname made Patton’s stomach do another funny swoop.

“Yeah, Ro?”

“Can you keep a secret?”

Patton thought about it. “Depends.”

“On what?”

“On the secret,” Patton said. “And if it involves lying or something else bad. I don’t like lying.”

“There’s no lying.” Ro paused. Her voice was weirdly hesitant. “And it might not have to be a secret for long, if--if you--you’ll see. I just wanna show you something, and you gotta promise you’ll be nice about it, and you’ll keep it a secret unless we agree it ought not to be.”

 _We_. Patton shifted. This secret involved _him_. Had he done something wrong? He really hoped not. Ro was his bestest friend and Patton didn’t want her to be mad at him.

“I’ll keep a secret,” Patton said.

“Pinky promise?”

Patton extended a pinky. Ro wrapped it around her own and shook their hands up and down.

“On your honor?” she asked.

Patton thumped his chest in what he hoped was an honorable fashion. “On my honor.”

“By your sword?”

Patton didn’t have a sword. He thought about pointing this out, but then they’d have to go find a sword, and he was curious now. And a little scared.

“On my sword,” he said, his voice small.

He’d made promises like this before. But usually Ro was excited, eyes sparkling, pulling him towards someplace they were Not Really Supposed to Enter to do things they Shouldn’t Be Doing. Ro wasn’t smiling now. She was worrying her bottom lip and tugging at the ribbon over her soulmark.

“I--” Ro hesitated and let out a long breath. “I’ve got something to show you. Maybe I should have sooner, but--yeah. Here.”

She grabbed the ribbon around her wrist and untied it, letting it fall to the treehouse floor. Her wrist was dark and smooth. She turned it over.

Scribbled across the veins in neat blue ink was the name _Patton._

Bubbly, round, just a little bit sparkly.

_Patton._

“I should have showed you,” Ro said apologetically, “but I couldn’t think of when and I didn’t know if I should and I don’t really know what to do with a _soulmate_ \--”

Something that had loosened in Patton’s chest, becoming all gooey and mushy and soft, hardened again.

“We’re not,” he interrupted.

“We’re--” Ro stared at Patton. “What?”

“We’re not,” Patton repeated. He realized he sounded sort of sad. He didn’t know why.

“Of course we are,” Ro said. “I’ve got your name. We’re soulmates.”

She sounded absolutely certain about it. And Patton _wanted_ to believe her. It surprised him, how much he wanted to. Ro knew all sorts of things--she was smart and passionate and funny and amazing. And she spoke like she controlled soulmates herself, like she could see the jagged edges of each soul and pinpoint exactly where they fit together.

Patton wanted Ro to be right.

But.

He pulled off his bracelet.

The name on there was curly and fancy and he’d forced his moms to read it for him. Red glittering ink, a curving line that ran under it and curled dramatically off into nothing. Little loops inside the curves and flourishes at the end of each line.

_Roman._

“See?” he said quietly. “Not you.”

Ro stared at the letters, frowning. “Could be me. It’s kinda close to Ro.”

“Your name isn’t Roman,” Patton said, grabbing his bracelet and pulling it back on. He didn’t want to look at the name anymore.

“But--” Ro looked upset. “I thought--I’ve got _your_ name.”

“It’s prob’ly another Patton,” Patton said, the words sticking in his throat. “I bet there are loads of Pattons. You’ll find another one soon.”

“I don’t _want_ another Patton!” Ro was clearly close to tears. Her wrist lay on the boards of the treehouse, bearing the right name for the wrong person. “I want _you!”_

“We’re not soulmates!” Patton shook his head. “It’s the rules.”

“I _hate_ the rules!”

Patton reached out and touched Ro’s hand. “We can still be friends! You can find your Patton and I can find my soulmate and we can be friends anyway!”

Ro sniffed. “But all the stories say soulmates are s’pposed to be _everything_.”

“We’ll make space.” Patton jutted his chin out. “You don’t like the rules, so--so we won’t follow them! Names are stupid and true names don’t make sense and soulmates are...soulmates are stupid! And anyway, there’s nothing in the rules about friends. You’ll find your knight, and I’ll--I’ll be your sidekick!”

Ro smiled a little. “We’ll stay friends?”

“Always!”

“Promise?”

“Promise!”

“Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise!”

“Swear it on the treehouse?”

Patton looked around at the treehouse, full to bursting with ideas and crannies and things to do.

Always was a long time.

But he couldn’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else.

“I swear,” Patton said, and Ro’s eyes shone like diamonds.

And they went on their way, reading another book, all talk of soulmates behind them. It was a nice long afternoon and there was no point in wasting it.

And if Patton felt weirdly sad when he thought about things too hard, that was okay. Nothing had changed. Nothing at all.

He kept his soulmark covered after that, even when nobody told him to.

It made him feel just a little bit lonely.

\---

Patton grew up, and Ro grew up, and whenever Patton’s mind wandered to that day, he tried to put it out of his head. Ro, for her part, barely seemed to remember at all. Patton wished he was the same. He wished he knew why he thought about it so much, soulmarks scrawled against bare skin, sunlight creeping through the edges of the wood.

He realized what it meant when he was thirteen.

Ro was also thirteen, and Ro had decided they were going swimming.

Ro did that. She had a tendency to simply decide on how things were going to be, craft a narrative in her own head, and then expect everyone else to fall in line. Patton usually did so. Ro’s ideas were good, and she always made room for Patton, right there by her side.

Some well-meaning adults--who could really be the worst kind of adults, in Patton’s opinion, though he’d never say so out loud--said that they’d outgrow their friendship soon enough. They weren’t soulmates, after all. It was a good thing that Ro didn’t like to listen to adults, and that growing up only seemed to bring them closer together, joined at the hip and two peas in a pod with the same sense of humor, the same excitement over new stories and fascination with small animals.

Ro was growing up tall and rounded with chubby cheeks and a squishy tummy and thick legs and eyes a little too big for her head and dreams too big for anyone’s head. And Patton was all bones with black hair that refused to untangle itself without three hours of brushing, and allergies that prevented him from eating basically anything, and a chipped front tooth from where he’d fallen out of a tree, and a left foot a little longer than his right. Ro liked acting and singing and writing and drawing. Patton liked cooking and hiking and sculpting and babysitting. They had enough friends to have nice big birthday parties and good enough grads to be on the honor roll. Ro could dance. Patton couldn’t. They both liked to read, they both liked to wear costumes and makeup, and they both could jump-rope past a hundred.

They were _friends_.

And as friends, they spent a lot of the summer together, so when Patton’s moms finally let him stay somewhere overnight because he was a Teenager, Ro immediately got Patton an invitation to stay with Ro’s family by the lake. For a whole _week_. With _Ro_.

Patton spent most of the summer, and a good bit of the spring, being ridiculously excited.

And after an eternity of waiting, it happened, and it was everything Patton had hoped.

They crawled their way to the shore in a minivan packed Tetris-style with everything they’d need and some things they wouldn’t. Patton forgot his alarm clock so he slept in late and stayed up later, leeching every moment of sunlight he could. They spent hours in the lake until their hair was limp and their fingers were pruny. They hiked up mountains just small enough to be relaxing and just tall enough to see the ridges around them, blue and sheer and endless like the world had been crumpled up and spread flat under the sky. They lit a bonfire or two on starry evenings when the sun sank between the hills with golden fanfare and the trees looked like cardboard cutouts against the sky, and Patton would eat the marshmallows and chocolate raw because he was allergic to graham crackers and toasting them just made them all burned. Ro, on the other hand, stacked four marshmallows on one stick and did her darn best to make them all catch fire at once.

Patton and Ro already spent most of their time together. They went to the same school and ate lunch at the same table, swapping Ro’s chips for Patton’s cookies. But now they were living together every moment of every day, swapping stories and watching each other smile and sitting on the dock as the sunset burned. Patton woke each day to Ro throwing open the door and beaming and saying “Get up, get up, it’s already ten and I just found a new tree to climb!” And she’d pull Patton off the pullout couch and toss a sweatshirt at Patton’s face and Patton would pull it over his pajamas and they’d start the day together with big smiles and bigger hopes.

No day had disappointed them yet.

He’d worried, at first, that they’d rub each other the wrong way when stuck together 24/7. Familiarity breeds contempt, that was one of Patton’s Mami’s many sayings. But it turned out to be the opposite. Patton felt happier and more comfortable than he ever had before. He’d be perfectly fine, he realized, with waking up to Ro’s face forever.

That meant something, and he wasn’t really sure what.

And he figured it out suddenly.

It was a sunny afternoon and Ro and Patton were going swimming.

The whole thing was Ro’s idea, of course. She’d tugged Patton down to the lakeside and threw on her swimsuit, and Patton did the same, and now they were splashing about in the water. It was a little cold and the sun was a little warm and the bottom of the lake was squelchy. But with the trees hanging over the water and the mountains cresting in the distance like the waves around them, Patton didn’t mind.

Ro could swim. Patton couldn’t, not much. He could doggy paddle, but asking him for athletics was _barking_ up the wrong tree. Still, when Ro dipped beneath the surface and swam easily to the floating dock, Patton did his best to follow. He grabbed the ladder and hauled himself up, swim trunks dripping. The dock was hot under his feet and drifted slowly in the current.

“Pattycake!” Ro called from near the edge. “Check this out!”

Patton ran over. Ro was staring into the water, a smile playing across her face.

“What?” Patton asked.

“Lean over and you’ll see.”

Patton scooted up to the edge, curled his toes around it, and leaned over. Nothing but a water strider and a tuft of grass--

A small push in the center of his back.

Not even a push. It was too gentle for that. It was a little tap, a warm wet hand on the small of Patton’s back, an invitation. If Patton wanted, he could easily stay upright. It wasn’t a prank but a question--Ro was wondering if Patton wanted to play along. If Patton was in the mood for a game.

Patton was. Always.

He let himself fall forward and hit the lake with a splash.

When he surfaced, bubbles all around him, he turned to face Ro and tried to think of a complaint. But he was laughing already, and his face was soaking wet, and Ro was laughing too.

Patton rubbed the water from his eyes and looked up. “Ro--”

And the words died on his throat.

Because Ro was laughing. Ro was cupping her hands to her mouth and _laughing_ , bright and bubbly and proud. She stood firmly on the dock, feet planted, swimsuit a bright red against her tan skin, her newly short hair--time for a change, she’d explained, hacking off the braid and gaining a dark wave that curled over her forehead and clipped short at the sides. Water dripped down her arms and pooled by her feet. Glowing in the sun, triumphant in her mischief, she looked magnificent.

She looked _beautiful_.

_Oh._

Oh, that was new.

Except it wasn’t. Not really. It had all been there before. But now it was in the sunlight, exposed and gleaming and so, so _real_.

Ro.

Aarohi.

Beautiful and bold and the best thing in Patton’s life.

And not his soulmate.

The sun went behind a cloud. Suddenly, Ro wasn’t glowing anymore. Suddenly, Patton was cold and wet and tired and didn’t know why he’d agreed to come out here in the first place.

“Pattycake?” Ro asked, smile falling. “Everything okay? Did I push you too hard?”

Pattycake. The latest in a long string of nicknames. Ro’s nicknames for Patton weren’t like any of her others. They weren’t little teases or stuff to help her remember. They were soft and sweet and nice.

Ro was so, so nice.

Too nice.

Too nice for Patton, because she didn’t know what Patton really wanted.

 _Patton_ didn’t know what Patton really wanted. He just knew he wasn’t supposed to want anything at all. They weren’t soulmates. The letters gleaming red in the lake water made that clear enough.

_Roman._

Not Ro. Never Ro, no matter how much Patton realized he _wanted_ that.

It wouldn’t be fair to Ro to try and break the rules.

But oh, how he wanted to.

“Pat?” Ro asked again, stepping forward, concerned. So concerned. Such a good friend. They had such a good friendship and Patton was so _selfish_ as to want more. He’d ruin it. He’d ruin everything they had and he’d be left without the one person he loved more than anything.

“I’m fine,” Patton forced out. “I’m, um, I’m tired. I’m gonna go inside.”

He didn’t wait for Ro to answer. He paddled into the shadows and pulled himself up the stairs. The stones were damp and pine needles stuck to his feet. He shivered. Getting out of the water was always the worst part. Patton grabbed a towel and wrapped it tightly around himself, taking a deep breath.

“Wait up!” Patton heard a splash. He turned around to see Ro swimming towards him.

“What are you doing?” Patton asked, pulling on his flip-flops.

“Coming with you! Duh!” Ro stood up in the water and adjusted her swimsuit. “Maybe we can practice some archery, I saw a bow and arrow in the barn--”

“You don’t have to,” Patton said weakly. “I don’t want to--you were having fun.”

“It’s no fun without you!” Ro looked around at the lake rimmed with trees and scoffed. “Do you see another Patton? I don’t think so!”

Patton’s heart went cold and he turned away.

“Pat? Hey, Pat!” More splashes and Ro was appearing behind him, eyes wide, mouth tight with concern. “Earth to Pat. You’re acting weird. Are you sick? Did that puddle yesterday give you rabies after all?”

Patton laughed despite himself. “Ro, a puddle can’t give you rabies.”

“It’s still a possibility.” Ro looked Patton over, grabbed another towel, and wrapped it around Patton’s shoulders. “Are you okay, though? You seem upset. We can go back to the house, watch a movie--”

“I’m okay. But actually,” Patton added, seeing an escape, “I might do that.”

“Great!” Ro clapped his hands. “Maybe we can do Mulan, or Princess and the Frog--”

“Um.” Patton shifted, staring at his flip-flops. “I meant...alone. I’ll go back to the house. You can stay out here.”

“What?” Ro didn’t sound offended, just worried. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah!” Patton tried to laugh. “I just...need a break for a bit, okay? I’ll hang out later!”

“Of course,” Ro said slowly. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Pinky promise?”

Patton didn’t take Ro’s extended pinky. “I’m really tired, Ro. I’m just gonna go.”

“Okay. Okay.” Ro squeezed Patton’s hand. “I’ll be here if you need me, okay?”

Patton nodded. “Okay.”

Ro flashed Patton a smile.

And then she disappeared back into the lake, sinking beneath the surface, swimming much farther than she had before. She’d only been sticking around at the dock because Patton was there, and Patton couldn’t swim.

Patton pulled the towels tighter around him, but he still felt too cold.

He watched Ro a second longer before turning away.

\---

Patton gave in when they were fifteen.

It had been two years. Two years of furtive glances and awkward blushes and late-night monologues about how Patton was terrible for even wanting this. That he was getting in Ro’s way. That Ro was going to find her soulmate and not need Patton and his stupid feelings ever again.

However, what Patton learned as they grew up was that a) he hadn’t stopped liking Ro. B) Ro hadn’t stopped being his friend. C) Ro hadn’t found her soulmate, and neither had Patton.

And d). Despite how much Patton berated himself for wanting Ro, he still _did_. So clearly, something wasn’t working.

Ro was still _Ro_. Kind and supportive and too good for Patton, and Patton desperately wanted to hold her hand and kiss her cheek and cuddle up next to her. Although they kind of did some of those things already, but Patton always pulled away first, because his face burned and he was scared Ro would notice and figure everything out.

Patton wanted to do those and not be afraid of showing how much he liked it.

Patton wanted to be Ro’s partner.

Patton was _pining_ , and it was miserable.

He’d tried to look for his soulmate in a futile bid to get his mind off Ro. No luck. There were no Romans in his school and too many online. His moms told him to be patient. Patton didn’t have time for patience. He needed to find his soulmate and fix everything!

He’d find them, and he’d love them, and Ro would find her soulmate too, and everything would be like it was supposed to be, and they’d live happily ever after, the end.

That hadn’t worked out. Or at least it hadn’t yet, and it _would_ eventually, but that wasn’t _now_.

So...Patton gave in.

Because Ro was beautiful. Ro liked to wear red nail polish and short shorts and denim jackets and bright red t-shirts. Ro was an actress--she sang and she acted and she could bring characters to life onstage. Ro made friends with everyone she met. Ro cried every time they watched Lion King. Ro was wonderful and so amazing and Patton ached every time he slipped Ro’s hand from his own.

At the very least, he needed to be honest. Patton didn’t like lying. And Ro was starting to realize something was wrong, spending less and less time with Patton, no longer hugging them in greeting but simply waving and smiling.

It was courteous, and it hurt even more, and Patton couldn’t be mad at her because she was trying, she’d seen that Patton was uncomfortable and done the best she could. Patton couldn’t blame Ro. It was Patton who was making things weird, Patton who was feeling things he shouldn’t be, Patton who needed to communicate,

So he invited Ro over to his house to talk.

They sat on the bed together, Patton fluffing the pillows and avoiding Ro’s eyes, Ro pulling off her jacket and setting it on the bed.

“Um.” Patton bit his lip. “I...I need to talk to you about something.”

“Oh?” Ro said. “Is...it a bad something? That’s a little worrisome of an opening line, Pat.”

“It’s not bad.” Patton stared at his hands and his wrists. _Roman_ , covered by a bracelet but still burning into him, reminding him that he shouldn’t be doing this.

Rules were rules sometimes.

Patton closed his eyes and held back his tears.

“I like you.”

Simple. Quiet. Filling his bedroom until Patton was sure it would burst.

He’d chosen his bedroom as a safe place, filled with old science projects and peeling drawings, air rustling the blue pawprint curtains and a little mural over the bed. Ro and Patton had painted that the summer before middle school. It had their handprints at the bottom, two little signatures, Ro’s bright red and Patton’s pale blue. He’d thought his room would settle him.

Now he just thought of all the afternoons they’d spent together here, a pile on the carpet, talking or singing or reading or just sitting in silence. They’d done their homework by the door, and had pillow fights with these pillows, and jumped on this bed, and tossed paper airplanes out of those windows.

So many memories, and Patton was jeopardizing them all.

“I like you,” he repeated, keeping his eyes closed. “As--as more than--no, it’s not more than, I _love_ being friends, but...I. I want--it would be nice if--would you ever be interested in being...partners?”

Patton cracked one eye open. Ro was silent. Her face was slack like Patton had slapped her.

Bad sign.

“We wouldn’t have to kiss or anything,” Patton said. “I don’t really want to, and I know you don’t either, and I found this word and it’s called queerplatonic partners and I’d really like that with you, if it’s alright, and I totally get if you say no, but I needed to be honest and we can just forget this ever happened, I promise--”

Ro opened her mouth and closed it again.

“I’m sorry,” Patton whispered. “I’m sorry, Ro.”

“You--” Ro swallowed. “You’re not my soulmate.”

“I’m not.” Patton shook his head. “I--I know, Ro, I know.”

“We’re not meant to be together.”

“I _know!”_ Patton threw out his wrist. “Believe me, Ro, I know. I’m sorry.”

Ro’s eyes were sparkling with tears. “Pat, I’m _sorry_ , I wish--”

“I know.” Patton pressed his hand to his eyes and scrubbed at the drops leaking from them. “I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Ro said softly.

And Patton hated his heart for leaping in hope.

“We could...anyway,” he ventured, knowing he was setting himself up for a fall, but unable to stop himself. “You’re the one who hates the rules.”

“Patton,” Ro said, even softer. “You don’t mean that.”

“I _do!”_ Patton almost sobbed. “Ro, I do, I really do!”

Because he did. He’d never meant anything more in his life.

And Ro looked so sad, like Patton was breaking his heart.

A small part of Patton felt viciously satisfied. There. Now Ro knew how it felt. Now Ro knew how it felt to be shattered by the one person you cared the most about.

“I’m sorry,” Ro said, his voice breaking. “I really am. I wish--we’re not, though. We’re not meant to be together, you know that--”

“That’s not you talking.” Something hot and angry swept Patton’s chest. “That’s what everyone says. Why are you listening to them?”

“Why aren’t you?” Ro threw up his hands. “Look, Pat, I like defying the ruels as much as the next person, but the universe doesn’t make mistakes. We’re. Not. Soulmates.”

_“So what?”_

Dead silence.

“So what?” Patton repeated. “Soulmates die. Soulmates hurt each other. Soulmates are platonic or soulmates date other people. Soulmates are just _names_ on _wrists._ They don’t mean _anything,_ Ro _.”_

He was crying now, openly, tears dripping onto his quilt. Ro looked about to cry as well. A cold wind swept over both of them. Patton had forgotten to close the windows.

“All the stories,” Ro said desperately, “it’s just how it _works_ , you know that--”

“ _Why?_ Why does _this_ have to be how it _works?”_

“I don’t know!” Ro yelled. “Pat, I don’t know!”

Patton was shocked into silence.

“But you know what I do know?” Ro shook her head. “I know that you’re my best friend. And that you deserve someone who can give you _all_ of themselves. Who’s not really a--who’s...as _good_ as you. As honest as you, as sweet as you. You deserve your _soulmate_. Someone who will really make you happy. That’s...” She choked on a sob. “Pat, that’s not _me_. That’s never been me.”

Patton stared at Ro. “ _You_ make me happy.”

Ro’s face crumpled. “I’m sorry.”

Ro opened her arms, and Patton fell into them, crying into Ro’s shoulder.

They stayed like that for a long time.

“It’s okay,” Ro whispered, running a hand over the bristly back of Patton’s neck. “We’ll be okay. We’ll stay friends, always.”

Patton laughed, choked and jerky, and something loosened from around his heart. “Promise?”

“Promise,” Ro said.

She left soon after that, saying something about homework. They’d always done their homework together. Patton struggled with his essay without Ro there to give him the right words.

The room was cold, and Patton felt numb, and he hoped against hope that he hadn’t ruined everything.

It definitely felt like he had.

\---

The week and a half after that was the worst week-and-a-half of Patton’s entire life.

He didn’t know if he was avoiding Ro. He didn’t know if Ro was avoiding him. But either way, they didn’t talk. Ro surrounded herself with her other friends and Patton ate his lunch alone in the bathroom, balancing his sandwich on his knees, grapes falling into the toilet and graffiti proclaiming that Madison Was A Not-Nice Word. They didn’t talk in class either. Patton’s science teacher remarked that they were finally straightening up and paying attention. Patton tried very hard not to cry.

Patton started writing Ro letters, but he would only get a few sentences in before tearing them up. What could he say? He’d already apologized. Ro was shutting him out, and it was entirely Patton’s fault, and there was nothing he could do.

He didn’t realize how much of his life was Ro until Ro was no longer there. Then he realized all his friends were Ro’s friends, all his afternoons were with Ro, and all his hobbies were much better when Ro was involved. And of course Patton didn’t spend every moment of his life thinking about Ro and spending time with her, but right now, it felt like there was a hole in the corner of every moment, a hole where Ro should be singing and talking and calling Patton ‘Pat’ and being his _friend_.

And then--

“I forgot the homework,” Ro said sheepishly when she finally appeared at Patton’s locker. “Could you remind me what we’re doing for next week?”

Patton stared at Ro and laughed automatically. “Ro, I told you to take notes!”

The words slipped off his tongue easily. He’d said them millions of times before. He was still watching Ro, heart stumbling over its rhythm, unable to believe that just like that, Ro was _here_. Smiling sheepishly with her jacket loose around her shoulders.

Things were...back to normal?

Things _couldn’t_ be back to normal.

“Well, I’ll make sure to do so next time.” Ro scratched at the back of her neck. “I suppose you’ll have to walk me through it, then.”

 _That_. That was an invitation to do homework together. Patton couldn’t believe it. He’d done _nothing_ , he’d ruined everything and then hid for a week, and Ro was just ignoring it. Ro was extending a hand and smiling and asking him to do homework with her, and Patton felt like he was going to either faint or squeal.

“Sure,” Patton managed, unable to stop the huge smile on her face. “Let me grab my stuff.”

And they went back to normal.

They sprawled on the floor of the treehouse--way too big for them now, but Ro said it helped her think--and they scribbled their way through calculus and art and geography. They laughed and talked and every minute, Patton’s shoulders loosened. It was sunny and things were back to normal.

They walked to school. They sat together at lunch. They passed notes during class and giggled when they got caught. They were friends again, and Patton felt ridiculous for thinking that they wouldn’t be, for assuming that Ro would ever leave him behind.

They were friends always. No matter whose soulmates they were.

They’d promised that.

“I’m going to be a philosophy teacher,” Patton said one day.

“You are,” Ro agreed.

“I’m going to be a Broadway star,” Ro said another day.

“You are!” Patton encouraged.

“I’m still your friend,” Patton asked hesitantly a third day, when his mind was being too loud. “Right? Your best friend?”

Ro smiled. “You are.”

“I’m trans.”

That was Ro, staring at her-- _his_ \--hands, knees pressed together and shoulders curled.

“You are?” Patton asked.

Ro nodded.

“You’re a guy,” Patton clarified.

“Yeah,” Ro said, _his_ voice hoarse. “Um. I told my parents, and they’re okay with it, and...I’m probably gonna change my name soon, and maybe try testosterone, and...yeah. I--I’ve known for a while.”

“How long?” Patton asked.

“Um.” Ro shrugged. “Hard to know? Probably since I was thirteen. And...you know, even when we were eight, I always wanted to be the knight.”

Patton smiled. “You were a great knight.”

Ro finally looked up, his eyes misty. “You’re not--I thought you’d--”

“I love you,” Patton said, brimming with warmth. “You’re my best friend, Ro. I love you so much, and I’m so, so proud of you.”

Ro pressed a hand to his mouth.

Patton reached over and hugged Ro around the shoulders. Ro gasped, then he lifted his arms and hugged back fiercely, burying his face in Patton’s shoulder.

“I love you,” Patton said again, smiling at the top of Ro’s head. “Always. And I will always support you.”

“You promise?” Ro asked.

“Promise.”

“Pinky-promise?”

Patton laughed and tangled their pinkies together. “Pinky promise.”

“I love you too,” Ro said, looking up and giving Patton a watery smile. “I’m really lucky to have you.”

Patton smiled wider.

This...this wasn’t what he wanted. Not exactly.

But he didn’t _need_ anything more.

He had Ro, right by his side.

Sun streamed through the windows, and they sat there for a long time, and neither of them pulled away.

\---

“Ugh,” Ro complained, “why are names so _hard?”  
_

Patton looked up from where he’d been scrolling through baby names. “Nothing?”

Ro sighed and tossed his notebook onto the bed. “Nope! No names match my glamour, grandeur, and all-around greatness?”

Patton pushed aside the computer and leaned over. “What have you gone through so far?”

Ro motioned to the notebook. Pages upon pages were filled with names in swirling ink, each one flourished like a signature. Some of them were crossed out violently. Others were just left half-finished.

“None of them are _me_ ,” Ro complained, sighing. “All your suggestions? Nah. Sorry, Pat.”

“Hmm.” Patton bit his lip. “Maybe we’re tackling this from the wrong angle. What do you _want_ your name to be like?”

“Noble!” Ro immediately declared. “A name fit for a prince!”

“Eric?” Patton ran through all the princes he knew. “Charles?”

Ro shook his head. “I’ll know it. I’ll _feel_ when it’s right. I think? I don’t know.”

“Well, we’ll see.” Patton worried his lip. “What else do you want from it?”

“It just has to be _me_.” Ro waved a hand at himself. “You know?”

“So, charming and wonderful and kind and brave,” Patton said, smiling. “Got it.”

Ro spluttered and swatted at Patton. “Stop!”

“I’m telling the truth!” Patton ducked out of his reach. “Daniel? Maybe we should look into some Indian names?”

“I'm thinking I’ll use one as a middle name.” Ro groaned. “Maybe? I don’t _know!”_

“It’s okay,” Pat said, laying a hand on his arm. “We’ll figure it out, and we’ve got time! In the meantime, what can I call you?”

“Ro,” Ro said without hesitation.

“Ro’s okay?”

“Ro’s _great_. I love it when you call me Ro.” Ro paused and jumped up. “That’s it! I’ll find a name that has Ro as a nickname.”

“That’s kind of specific,” Patton pointed out, but Ro’s energy made him smile as well.

“There’s gotta be something!” Ro grabbed Patton’s computer and started tapping at it. “Hmm.”

Silence fell. Patton enjoyed watching Ro bite his lip and furrow his brow in concentration. He shouldn’t be, of course, because they were just friends and not soulmates and that was what they’d decided. Still, when Ro wasn’t looking, he enjoyed soaking in the sight of his best friend. Ro’s pen tapped against his leg as he scrolled, the light of the screen illuminating his defined chin and the dip of his lips--handsome. Handsome and beautiful. His hair was messy from all the times he’d run his fingers through it and he squinted at the screen.

It was dark, Patton realized--they’d been here for hours, working their way through a pack of gummy worms. Ro had promised they’d stop and watch Disney if Patton said the word, but Patton didn’t mind helping Ro, curled up on the bed surrounded by pieces of notepaper and watching Ro’s eyes light up.

Still, he turned on a little lamp. It had tassels on it. Classic Ro.

“Pat,” Ro said slowly.

“Yeah?”

“This.” Ro looked up, his eyes shining. “I think I found it--let me--”

He threw the laptop aside. Patton caught it before it fell off the bed. He dug around in the pillows and extracted his sparkly pen, setting a piece of paper against his arm and scribbling something down. He paused and stared at it a few seconds. Patton saw the exhilaration in his eyes. He quietly repeated something to himself.

“Yeah.” Ro shook his head, laughing. “Yeah, this is _it_ , Pat--I _found_ it!”

“You found it?”

“I found it!” Ro squealed and shimmied. “I think?”

“Let me see!” Patton paused. “If...it’s okay?”

“It’s okay, take a look!” Ro slid the piece of paper over to Patton. Patton smiled and looked down.

His heart stopped.

“It’s a little unconventional,” Ro was saying, “but it’s a nice name, and it fits with my nickname, and it’s definitely a noble and royal name--”

Patton swallowed. His hands were shaking. He read the name over and over, but it didn’t change, still scrawled in sparkling ink and taunting him.

“--I think this might be it, seriously, it just feels _right_ \--” Ro went silent. “Pat?”

Patton kept staring at the name.

_Roman._

In Ro’s spirally handwriting, curling at the edges, a familiar script that made his stomach clench up.

 _Roman_.

“Pat? Are you okay?” Ro’s voice grew quiet. “Is there something wrong? Do you not--I know it’s kind of stupid, I just thought--

Patton jerked his head up. _No!_ Ro was fidgeting with his sleeve and he looked about to grab the paper and tear it up, and gosh, Patton had to _say_ something.

"Do you remember,” Pat blurted out, his voice strained, “when I showed you my soulmark?”

“Huh?” Ro blinked. “I, um, yeah? I think so? Heckity heck, that was a while ago.”

“Yeah.” Patton rubbed at his bracelet. He’d gotten rid of the glitter because it tended to get all over his stuff. Now it was a thick leather strap with a little pawprint dangling from it. “Um...do you remember the name of mine?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Ro frowned. “Why? Was I supposed to? I just remember that it--” Something crossed his face. “Wasn’t mine.”

_Roman._

Patton swallowed. “Great! Fantastic.”

“There’s something wrong.” Ro scooted forward, pushing the paper aside and touching Patton’s hand. “What’s up, Pat?”

“Does it fit you?” Patton asked desperately. “That name--does it fit you?”

“I...” Ro paused. “Yeah. I--I like it a lot. Why? Do you not--”

“I like it,” Patton immediately said. And it was the truth. He _loved_ it. It was beautiful and regal and very Ro. But he’d spent his whole life hating that name. He’d spent his whole life hoping for that name to save him from his best friend and feelings he couldn’t control.

Patton looked down at the paper.

_Roman._

Gleaming in ink, perfect and poised, close enough to touch.

“Pat?” Ro asked again. He was really worried now. Patton could tell from the crinkle between his eyes.

Before Patton could stop himself, he tugged off his bracelet and bared his wrist.

_Roman._

Red ink, looping curves, smooth and polished and a name Patton had refused to look at for most of his life.

It gleamed bright in the darkness.

“What--” Ro froze. “Pat--”

“You didn’t know,” Patton said, “but you chose it, and--it might not mean anything, it doesn’t have to mean anything, it’s birth names--”

“It’s true names,” Ro corrected, his voice oddly distant. “They disproved the birth name theory.”

“I’m sorry,” Patton begged.

“Pat.” Ro shook his head. “What the heck are you apologizing for?”

“I don’t know, I just--” Patton looked around at the paper strewn on the bed. “This was your moment, and I ruined it, and--”

“Pat.” Ro reached out and pulled Patton’s hands into his own. He ran his thumb along the red letters on Patton’s wrist, and Patton shivered. Then he pulled his own ribbon off. It snapped in half from the force.

 _Patton._ Bubbly and blue and cheerful. Neat against Ro’s skin, and a long-buried wound ruptured in his chest.

“Would you look at that,” Ro said, placing their wrists side-by-side. “A perfect match.”

Patton stared at them. “But--it could be a coincidence--”

“It could be,” Ro allowed. He was starting to smile. “But I don’t think it is, do you?”

“It could be...” Patton shook his head. “That might not be your name. What if we’re wrong?”

“Then we’re wrong.” Ro folded his hand over Patton’s so their wrists bumped each other. “But I don’t think we are, do you?”

“It could be--” Patton shook his head. “It could be a mistake!”

Ro looked surprised. His hand jerked in Patton’s. “The universe doesn’t make mistakes.”

“Maybe it did this time!” Patton pulled his hand away and tucked it to his chest, hiding the red letters from the room. “Maybe--what if we break up, what if we hate each other, what if we aren’t meant to be together--”

“Calm down, love,” Ro said. “I hear you. But--what if we _are?”_

Patton looked into his face.

What if they were?

What if they were soulmates all along? What if they were two sides of a coin, two halves of a whole, two peas in a pod? Soulmates meant nothing but the world decided they meant something so it _meant_ something that their names matched, it _meant_ something that Ro was staring at Patton like Patton had just saved the world, it _meant_ something that Patton’s heart was beating out of his chest and he wanted to fold into Ro’s arms and nestle there forever.

What if they were?

It wouldn’t change a thing.

And it would change everything.

“We’d be soulmates,” Patton said. “We’re soulmates.”

“We’re soulmates,” Ro repeated, shaking his head. “We’re soulmates--oh my gosh-peck I could have been with you _months_ ago, _years--_ I turned you _down_ and I didn’t even _realize--_ it would have changed _everything--”_

Ro jumped up and grabbed Patton’s arms, pulling him off the bed. The next thing Patton knew, Ro was lifting him in the air and spinning him around. Patton clung tightly to his shoulders and felt laughter bubble up in his chest.

“You’re my soulmate!” Ro yelled. “Pat, _Pat_ , oh, _Patton_ , you’re my soulmate, it’s you, it’s always been you, I was such an _idiot_ \--”

Patton laughed and covered his mouth. “Ro--”

“I love you,” Ro blurted out, pressing their foreheads together. “I love you, I love you so much, darling, and I would like nothing else than to be with you for the rest of my days, you’re the light of my life, the moon to my sun--”

“Ro!” Patton exclaimed, face burning.

“Sugar, honey, dearest, I _love_ you!” Ro spun him around once more. “I knew that, I’ve known that for years, but we weren’t together, I wasn’t supposed to--”

“You were the one who said we couldn’t be together,” Patton choked out, but it was hard to even be a little angry when Ro was beaming at him with sparkling eyes.

“How dare you listen to me!” Ro shook his head. “I was blind, I was a fool, I could have _had_ you and was an _idiot_.”

“You’re not an idiot,” Pat said softly. “You just didn’t know. Neither did I.”

Which was the truth and yet not, because Patton felt very suddenly that he _had_ known. All along. The revelation sat neatly within him, a new chapter of a book he already knew by heart, a twist ending he’d plotted with Ro ahead of time, swapping ideas on the floor of their treehouse.

Ro was his soulmate, and gosh, everything made perfect sense.

“I love you too,” Pat burst out, and he leaned in and kissed Ro on the nose. Then the cheeks, then the jaw, then all over, a kiss for every time he wished for this. A kiss for every time he didn’t dare to hope this could be real. “I love you, I love you, Ro, I love you _so much_ \--”

“I’m sorry,” Ro said. “I’m sorry it took so long, we could have been so much more if I let us--”

“More than what?” Patton shook his head, filled with a huge joy. “More than us? We were always _us_. Now we just get confirmation that the universe knows it, too.”

“The universe is smart,” Ro said, pressing a small kiss to Patton’s cheek. “Just like you are.”

Patton giggled. “Ro!”

“What? You’re my partner, I get to compliment and kiss you all I want.” Ro paused. “We--we _are_ partners, right? If not, I get it, we can stay friends or give you time, I get if you need time--”

“I’ve had way too much time,” Patton interrupted, beaming. “I would love to be your partner.”

“We’re partners.” Ro somehow grinned even wider, squeezing Patton in a quick hug. “We’re partners, and we’re soulmates, I _love_ you--”

“Does it fit?” Patton asked suddenly, lifting his hand to brush hair from Ro’s face, because Ro’s hair was always messy and Patton dreamed of sweeping it aside and now he _could_. His wrist shone with Roman on it. A little piece of Ro, glowing, and for once he didn’t look away. “The name?”

“I don’t know,” Ro said softly, “why don’t you try it out?”

Patton looked at Ro. His brilliant, beautiful, supportive friend. His partner. His _soulmate_. The person he’d spent his whole life beside, and wouldn’t mind continuing that trend for the rest of it.

Ro, who he’d promised he’d be friends with forever and always.

Always was a long time, but there was nowhere Patton would rather be.

“I love you, Roman,” Patton whispered.

Ro gasped. His eyes watered.

“Is that okay?” Patton asked. “Does that fit?”

“Pat,” Ro breathed, “Pat, it’s _me_. I _found_ it.”

“Roman,” Patton said again, rolling the name around on his tongue. “Roman, Roman, Roman.”

 _Roman_.

Roman, grinning, eyes wet with tears, happier than Patton had ever seen him.

“It’s me,” _Roman_ said, laughing. “It’s _me_ , Pat, I _found_ me.”

“I knew you would,” Patton said, smiling back. “And so did the universe.”

“I found _us_.” Roman leaned forward and pressed his forehead to Patton’s again, his breath light on Patton’s cheeks. “I found us and I’m not letting us go.”

“I’ve always _had_ you.” Patton shook his head. “We were confused for a bit. And scared. But...I don’t think we were ever _lost_.”

“You’re right. How could I be lost?” Roman laughed. “I have the most excellent of sidekicks.”

Patton laughed too. “Now that you’re my partner, I think you’re the knight and I’m the damsel.”

“I’m afraid that’s incorrect.” Roman dipped Patton suddenly, grinning. “Pretty as you are, I don’t think you’d wait around to be rescued.”

“I don’t know,” Patton teased, “I might let you do all the heavy lifting.”

“This is an equal partnership!” Roman declared. “Which means dragon-fighting together?”

“Dragon-fighting together,” Patton agreed. “But talk to them first. Maybe we can reach a compromise.”

“Of course!” Roman’s face softened. “We shall go on many wonderful adventures, my dear.”

“I look forward to it, my knight.” On impulse, Patton leaned forward and hugged Roman. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Roman asked, reaching up and cupping Patton’s head.

“For being you. For being there.” Patton looked up, smiling. “For being my friend.”

“I did promise,” Roman teased.

“And now...” Patton shook his head, still barely able to believe it. “We’re partners.”

“We are indeed.” Roman laughed. “I had my doubts in the universe, but it pulled through.”

“And this...” Patton chewed on his lip. “This is what you want? I don’t want you to feel pressured to keep Roman as your name because of me, I don’t want you to feel pressured to keep _me_ \--”

“Sweetheart,” Roman said, “that’s very kind of you, but I know exactly what I want, and it’s the black-haired cutie standing right in front of me.”

“You sure?”

Patton didn’t like the vulnerability in his voice, the quiet hope. Then again, if anyone would understand, it would be Roman.

Roman. His partner. His soulmate. His best friend and the person he loved most in the world.

Of course they were soulmates. How could it be anything different?

“I’m sure,” Roman said.

“Promise?”

“I swear on all the stars in the sky and all the phases of the moon,” Roman declared. He brushed Patton’s forehead with his fingers and cupped his chin. “I love you, Pat. I promise.”

Patton swallowed. “I want to stay with you. Can we stay?”

“As long as you wish.” Roman smiled. “Always, if that’s what you’d like.”

“I’d love that,” Patton admitted. “So, so much.”

Always.

Always with Roman, their wrists gleaming, their arms around each other and their heartbeats fluttering in time.

That sounded wonderful.

That sounded like more than Patton had ever hoped for.

“Magic,” he whispered to himself, because that was the only word for this feeling, a buzz and a spark and a warm wind swirling through the wind, rustling the notebook pages, slipping down Roman’s face.

“I told you, it shouldn’t have rules.” Roman laughed a little. “And I forgot that. I should have listened to myself--should have listened to you. We lost so much time.”

“We’ve got so much time to make up for it,” Patton said. “We’ve got always, Roman.”

Roman curled Patton tighter in his arms.

“And it wasn’t a loss,” Patton whispered. “I was with you, and that’s all I needed.”

“I love you,” Roman said again. Maybe it should have felt less new, less real and tangible and euphoric, since he’d repeated it over and over. But it still made Patton feel like a sun had come out behind a cloud, like his tears were drying and the world was opening up and everything was settling into place.

Patton didn’t even need to say _I love you_ back. He could just stay there, wrapped in Roman’s arms, eyes closed and enjoying the warmth of the sun on his heart, thawing places he didn’t know were cold. Roman would know.

“I love you,” Patton said anyway.

Because he could, and because he wanted to, and he finally had what he’d wanted. An always with Roman. Roman. Roman here, Roman with him, Roman exactly who he’d needed all along.

They stood there for a long time in the darkness, and spent a long time together afterwards, and had a long future ahead of them.

They didn’t quite live happily ever after, of course, but nobody did.

They lived ever after. They loved ever after.

And that was so much more than enough.


End file.
